In The Quiet
by Luna Maria Boulevardes
Summary: Azulang. Oneshot. An illicit affair with the Fire Nation princess leaves Aang knowing more than he wants to know.


In the Quiet

By L. M. Boulevardes

* * *

Shut up

Shut up

_ShutupShutupShutupShutupShutup_

Great. And now he's having a conversation with himself. But Aang can't get the little voice in his head to be quiet, and that's a problem. He can't think from what it says, what it reminds him of. He feels so dirty. He knows now. He knows everything, everything he shouldn't. He is panting, he can't stop these thoughts, these horrible thoughts and images. He sees into the past and he is a witness. For the love of God, why can't he forget his flesh?

_Go away_

_Shut up!_

He remembers every detail of the affair. She wanted him first. When she captured him that first time, he was scared to be certain. He was thirteen, a cherry bud on the verge of blossoming and coming into his prime. She was wilted lotus, something that frightened him. He was delicate; yet he endured. She was supposed to be strong, to put down her roots and thrive even in dirty water. But she was poisoned. His poor wilting lotus flower. . .

He kissed her. It was desperate, half-hearted attempt to distract her long enough to make an escape. It was very sudden; up until a second before he had not considered in even the farthest most corners of his mind to _seduce _Azula. But he scared her so much! He never understood, he just knew that the expression she wore when he pulled away was one he never wanted to see again. She was seized with terror, looking up at him in horror like he was a monster.

"_Go away! Get out here!"_

Her scream was enough to drive him away. . . for a few days. He came back to apologize, and she took him to her chambers to make him her own. He remembers looking down at her naked body. She had a long pink scar splayed diagonally over her stomach. She had pink tears on her breasts, that, if examined closely, one discovered were _scars. _

How. . . .?

Someone had _bitten _Azula's breasts.

She stared up at him with hollow golden eyes, like this was something to be endured and nothing else. She led his hand between her legs, waiting for him to take his pleasure from her. He hesitated, letting his hand lay there unmoving. Yet he still felt the craggy flesh between her legs, and horror dawned on him like a great and terrible bird unfurling its wings and casting him in its shadow.

_Someone had **burnt** Azula._

He sprang up and ran until he was safe in the forest, where he vomited. His mind reeled with horror as he remembered the tears streaming down her face as his delicate fingertips brushed her flesh ever so lightly. Only one other time had he seen a burn like that – on Zuko's face.

Ozai.

Ozai had raped his daughter,

burnt his daughter,

scarred the favorite child, his perfect little prodigy. . .

Aang reeled back into time, his Avatar spirit seeing what no one else knows. He felt the heat of the room, saw Azula so terrified she forgot to even fight back. Drunk, Ozai lumbered over to the girl and feel atop her. Aang alone sees the scream bubbling up through her, though she can't let it out. She is gasping for air that she cannot get in her fear.

"_My angel, my little prodigy! _

"_My whore, my slut,_

"_My sticky little pussy!" _

Azula in her fear can't scream, but in real time Aang can – and he does. The Avatar's righteous fury fills the scream that no one is around to hear. Finally he collapses to the ground, shaking and sobbing.

He has learned many things tonight.

Azula is more human than they would have ever liked to believe. If she is hurt, she will cry. If you cut her, she will bleed. She is bleeding, she is bleeding, and he sees the blood on _his _hands every time he looks at them. The little voice in his head reminds, replays the scene, makes him so sick. Why is there nothing he can do?

_Shut up_

_Go away_

_Shut up, shut up, shut up!_

He stares up, lying on his back in the earthen tent Toph made for him when he stumbled into camp and promptly vomited again. Katara's words are as soothing and gentle as her cool touch on his forehead, hot as Azula's fire and sticky with sweat that reminds him of sex. He wants to forget.

_Shut up _

_Shut up_

_Go away_

_Shut up_

He can't forget.

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender.

Author's Notes: Inspired by RadiantBeam and daydream11's stories. Please review!!!!


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